“You are both important men,” he states in a thick accent. He probably doesn’t know just how important they are.
“We are. Killing us without orders to do so would be rather unwise,” England replies bluntly.
“Indeed. However, you injured my top officer’s jaw when we took you in. We don’t let that sort of behavior go unpunished.” He nods towards the restrained America.
“Your officer already retaliated with the butt of his gun.” England instinctively touches the place on his jaw where a deep bruise is developing. The man does not look impressed.
“It is still too good for a filthy Tommy. How dare you touch one of my men with your vile person? You should know your place.”
England knows better than to respond to the taunts, but America seems close to pouncing, with or without the use of his arms.
The man is about to take another step when someone comes up behind him and whispers hurriedly in his ear. He replies in his native tongue and gestures for the officer to leave.
“I will be back soon.” He lowers the gun and keeps his eyes on the prisoners as he walks toward the door. “If you remove that gag, I will blow your hands off.”
The door is closed and locked. Once again, the room is dark. America and England listen as the footsteps fade away.
“Hey!” America says through the fabric. “Why’d you have to talk back?!”
England can just make out what he’s saying, but looks away. America repeats the question, louder and with greater rage.
“What was I supposed to do, let him shoot us without argument?” England snaps back angrily, brushing off his uniform and scanning the room once again for anything that might be useful.
“You took it too far!” America yells, just barely audible.
“I’m sure he already had a plan in mind. I doubt I changed the course of it.”
America rests his head back against the wall. “If he hurts you…”
“You’ll what? Kick your shoe at him? And while we’re on that, you’re the one who looked like you were about to attack. You shouldn’t act so recklessly. Oh, but that’s probably too much to ask. Look who I’m talking to.”
America grumbles until he can think of a suitable response to throw back.
They bicker back and forth, working around America’s temporary handicap to yell at each other in the most dire of situations. After several more minutes of heated argument, they hear the creak of the door.
“We can hear your yelling from across the building,” the man says as he walks in, voice raised in irritation. “It is becoming increasingly difficult not to shoot you dead right here.”
The prisoners are silent, stubbornly looking away from each other.
The man takes out the gun again and subtly pushes his coat back to reveal a glimpse of several more weapons at his disposal. He aims the gun at England’s forehead once more. “Well, the good thing is that I’ve figured out a suitable punishment for a disgraceful creature such as yourself. Since it seems you’re just as loud as he is, we’ll find a more deserving use for that mouth.” He walks forward and addresses England directly. “Suck his cock.”
England stares up at him.
No. H-he can’t mean…
“Are you going to try my patience? Should I put the bullet in your skull now?” The man waves his gun toward America. England continues to stare in disbelief, so the man cocks the gun threateningly. “Get to it.”
England’s mind can’t process it. He slowly begins to crawl toward America, who is staring wide-eyed and shaking his head as he struggles fruitlessly against his restraints. When England doesn’t move fast enough, the man points the gun at America instead.
“Don’t!” England exclaims as his palms move quickly against the stone floor.
America, for his part, barely bats an eyelash when the gun is trained on him. He just glances from England to their captor, as if in a daze.
Survival (2/5)
“We are. Killing us without orders to do so would be rather unwise,” England replies bluntly.
“Indeed. However, you injured my top officer’s jaw when we took you in. We don’t let that sort of behavior go unpunished.” He nods towards the restrained America.
“Your officer already retaliated with the butt of his gun.” England instinctively touches the place on his jaw where a deep bruise is developing. The man does not look impressed.
“It is still too good for a filthy Tommy. How dare you touch one of my men with your vile person? You should know your place.”
England knows better than to respond to the taunts, but America seems close to pouncing, with or without the use of his arms.
The man is about to take another step when someone comes up behind him and whispers hurriedly in his ear. He replies in his native tongue and gestures for the officer to leave.
“I will be back soon.” He lowers the gun and keeps his eyes on the prisoners as he walks toward the door. “If you remove that gag, I will blow your hands off.”
The door is closed and locked. Once again, the room is dark. America and England listen as the footsteps fade away.
“Hey!” America says through the fabric. “Why’d you have to talk back?!”
England can just make out what he’s saying, but looks away. America repeats the question, louder and with greater rage.
“What was I supposed to do, let him shoot us without argument?” England snaps back angrily, brushing off his uniform and scanning the room once again for anything that might be useful.
“You took it too far!” America yells, just barely audible.
“I’m sure he already had a plan in mind. I doubt I changed the course of it.”
America rests his head back against the wall. “If he hurts you…”
“You’ll what? Kick your shoe at him? And while we’re on that, you’re the one who looked like you were about to attack. You shouldn’t act so recklessly. Oh, but that’s probably too much to ask. Look who I’m talking to.”
America grumbles until he can think of a suitable response to throw back.
They bicker back and forth, working around America’s temporary handicap to yell at each other in the most dire of situations. After several more minutes of heated argument, they hear the creak of the door.
“We can hear your yelling from across the building,” the man says as he walks in, voice raised in irritation. “It is becoming increasingly difficult not to shoot you dead right here.”
The prisoners are silent, stubbornly looking away from each other.
The man takes out the gun again and subtly pushes his coat back to reveal a glimpse of several more weapons at his disposal. He aims the gun at England’s forehead once more. “Well, the good thing is that I’ve figured out a suitable punishment for a disgraceful creature such as yourself. Since it seems you’re just as loud as he is, we’ll find a more deserving use for that mouth.” He walks forward and addresses England directly. “Suck his cock.”
England stares up at him.
No. H-he can’t mean…
“Are you going to try my patience? Should I put the bullet in your skull now?” The man waves his gun toward America. England continues to stare in disbelief, so the man cocks the gun threateningly. “Get to it.”
England’s mind can’t process it. He slowly begins to crawl toward America, who is staring wide-eyed and shaking his head as he struggles fruitlessly against his restraints. When England doesn’t move fast enough, the man points the gun at America instead.
“Don’t!” England exclaims as his palms move quickly against the stone floor.
America, for his part, barely bats an eyelash when the gun is trained on him. He just glances from England to their captor, as if in a daze.